


Détente

by bigboobedcanuck



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: Father Figures, Fatherhood, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-30
Updated: 2013-03-30
Packaged: 2017-12-06 23:52:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/741642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bigboobedcanuck/pseuds/bigboobedcanuck
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Veronica goes a bit off the rails after Duncan leaves. Logan is there. Keith isn't sure what to think about that.</p><p>
  <i> Keith cuts him off. “So how did you find her tonight?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“She called. I came.” Logan raises his hands and drops them back to his sides.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Is that how it works?”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>He huffs out a soft laugh. “Despite my best intentions, yeah. Everyone else must have been busy.”</i>
</p><p>
  <i>“Or maybe she can’t stay away from you, best intentions be damned.” Keith isn’t sure why he let that truth slip out, but there it is. </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Détente

**Author's Note:**

> Set post-211. Keith POV.

Music seeps through the wall from Veronica’s bedroom yet again, and Keith fantasizes about opening her door and throwing the stereo to the floor. Instead, he puts two slices of bread in the toaster and waits. He knows her melancholy is genuine this time around. 

He has a hard time caring.

His sigh is heavy; of course he cares. No matter how betrayed he feels. Her performance was so flawless — he feels a chill just thinking about it. That Veronica could lie so completely to him is something Keith can’t wrap his head around yet. To anyone else, maybe. But not to him. Never, ever to him.

They go through the motions — saying good morning and good night and maybe a few things in between. Only their silences are meaningful. 

She has picked up extra shifts at the coffee shop and hasn’t been back to Mars Investigations. The subject has not been broached. In his office, past Veronica’s dusty desk, Keith finds himself closing the door more often than not. 

*

Veronica hasn’t been a typical teen for a long time, but tonight she lives up to the stereotype. The minutes tick by towards morning as Keith waits on the couch, listening for her approach. After two sets of footsteps near and she finally fumbles for her keys outside the door, he doesn’t need to smell the alcohol on her breath to know.

He goes into his bedroom and waits as Wallace puts her to bed. Keith doesn’t want to see her right now, doesn’t want to yell so loudly that the neighbours will come knocking. When her bedroom door closes, his opens. But Wallace isn’t frozen in place in the hallway, a guilty expression captured comically on his face.

Logan Echolls leans against the wall, waiting. A small smile tugs on his lips and his voice is low. “She already threw up twice; she’ll be passed out the rest of the night.” 

For a moment, Keith is caught off guard. He remembers the heat of summer, sweat trickling down his back as he stormed in and slammed Logan against the wall, twisted his limbs as he told him to never, ever return. Keith had certainly meant it at the time, and still wants to mean it now. 

Yet he thinks of the tears Logan couldn’t hide — didn’t even try to — in another room, not so long ago. The razor-sharp distrust and dislike he feels for this boy has dulled. This boy who might be a killer, who might be dangerous, who might be trouble. No, this boy who is _definitely_ trouble. 

Keith clears his throat. “Since when are you and my daughter getting drunk together?”

“I’m actually not drunk for once. I know, it surprises me too. But I was busy snorting coke and I forgot to stock the bar. ” 

Logan’s eyes are clear and Keith’s too good of a detective to think he’s anything but clean and sober. “Let me rephrase. Since when are you and my daughter associating with each other again?”

“We’re not.”

“So you just happened upon a drunken Veronica at some party?”

“Veronica doesn’t get drunk at parties.” There’s a new tightness in Logan’s voice that most people wouldn’t even notice. 

Keith is not most people.

“So where does she get drunk?” 

“She’s probably got a fake ID from every state in the union. Where do you think? Look, I guess she had a bad day — it’s no big deal.”

“Oh, really?” Keith’s voice raises a notch. 

“I mean that you don’t have to worry about her going off the rails or anything. She was just drowning her sorrows for one night.”

Keith sighs. “I know she misses Duncan, but—”

“Not as much as she misses you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” His back is up in an instant. This little punk — getting involved in their lives, their business.

Logan shrugs. “Anyway, you don’t have to fret. About her getting plastered. It’s not like you’ll have to ship her off to rehab.”

The specter of Lianne, never far from Keith’s mind, makes its presence known. His wife didn’t start off a drunk; many years passed before she drowned her sorrows on a daily basis. He won’t allow Veronica to follow that path. Simply won’t. He sees the moment when Logan realizes what he’s just said, and the kid opens his mouth, face flushing. Keith cuts him off. “So how did you find her tonight?” 

“She called. I came.” Logan raises his hands and drops them back to his sides.

“Is that how it works?”

He huffs out a soft laugh. “Despite my best intentions, yeah. Everyone else must have been busy.”

“Or maybe she can’t stay away from you, best intentions be damned.” Keith isn’t sure why he let that truth slip out, but there it is. 

Logan says nothing in response, just looks at him for a long moment, something that might be hope whispering across his face. “Well, I guess I should be getting home.” His smile is wry. “Not that anyone will be waiting up.” 

“Where’s home these days?” Keith isn’t sure why he cares, and is unnerved by the fact that he does.

“A beach house off Monterey Drive. Great waves in the morning, private stretch of sand all to myself.”

“The insurance company pay up for the fire?”

“Yep, and not a moment too soon. If I had to live in the same house as Kendall Casablancas, I think I’d have to kill myself.” 

Images real and imagined flash through Keith’s mind: Veronica’s tears, Logan up on the bridge, the click of Lynn Echolls’ high heels, her sad smile. “The new place sounds…quiet.”

“I’m hiring a maid next week. I’m sure she’ll be a great conversationalist.”

“Well, I guess you’ve got it all figured out then.” 

“You know me.” As he pushes off the wall, Logan lifts his fingers in a salute, his usual mocking tone absent. “Later…Mr. Mars.” 

Keith thinks fleetingly of Duncan, long gone. Somehow he knows that Logan will be back. 

“Later.”

He doesn’t mind as much as he should.


End file.
